


In Another’s Being Mingle

by Maidenjedi



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:26:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7195556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maidenjedi/pseuds/Maidenjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Elinor Dashwood is engaged as a companion for Mrs. Jennings, and goes to Devonshire, where she has a very different fateful meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another’s Being Mingle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesireeArmfeldt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/gifts).



> Liberties taken with the timeline at the very beginning of the original tale, and totally AU from there. And Colonel Brandon’s given name is courtesy of the 1995 film.

Elinor refrained from watching Norland shrink as the carriage headed toward Devonshire in the early morning sun.  It was not that she was not sentimental about the place; on the contrary, melancholia battled for her attention against practicality, realism, and yes, the excitement that heralds new adventures.

She would have plenty of time to dwell on this conflict, she thought as her companion, a maid named Betsy, fell into a light slumber and began to snore.  Elinor smiled to herself and turned her attention to the awakening landscape.  She had chosen to leave so early so as to avoid a scene with her mother and sisters; Marianne in particular had been opposed to this trip, stating her absolute conviction to remain at Norland until dragged from the grounds by her skirt, if necessary. 

But it was a necessary journey, after all.  Elinor touched the letter from Sir John Middleton, confirming the details of her employment as his mother-in-law’s companion, and offering Mrs. Dashwood a home at a cottage on his property if the need should arise.  Mrs. Dashwood had been loathe to leave Norland just yet, choosing to linger and hoping her presence would work on her stepson’s better nature, but Elinor knew their situation was tenuous at best.  Better to earn while she could, and help her family, than to dwell on heartbreak in the halls of a home no longer hers anyway.

There was regret in leaving at this exact moment, Elinor thought.  Henry Dashwood had left this world not two months prior; her mother had been prostrate with grief for the first month and only exerted herself in recent weeks as the reality of their situation came crashing down on them with Fanny’s letter announcing her and John’s imminent arrival.  As soon as the London season ended and their obligations satisfied, they would arrive, and Mary Dashwood and her daughters would be cast out.  All this had contributed to the haste in sending Elinor to Devonshire.  Elinor missed her father dearly, for love of course, but he had left behind much uncertainty with those broken hearts.  Had he made arrangements…. 

But there, it was no use dwelling on it, and she turned her musing in another direction.  The thought of her father reassured Elinor, who did feel some uneasy anticipation.  Sir John Middleton was wholly unknown to the girls, and their mother had only a vague recollection from her youth.  Still, there was nothing to be done, and Mr. Dashwood would have seen the sense in this journey, and encouraged Elinor to keep a stiff upper lip and go about the task with dignity.  She intended to do just that.

She played with the edges of the book she’d brought for company, and tried to keep her mind clear and her thoughts positive. 

-

Elinor had settled in at Barton Park reasonably well; Mrs. Jennings was a loud, opinionated woman, though very friendly and pleasant to pass an afternoon with, and Elinor could hardly believe she was earning money to be this woman’s companion.  Elinor could have wished for better company nearer her own age – Lady Middleton was a placid woman, but had no conversation or wit, and seemed to only truly come alive with her children present. 

It was on her fifth day at Barton when Elinor became acquainted with Colonel Brandon.  She had heard his name.  Sir John was eager to bring his name into conversation regularly, and Mrs. Jennings always followed with an entreaty that Elinor not dismiss him as a suitor immediately upon making his acquaintance.  “I always thought he might do for my Charlotte, you know, my younger daughter,” Mrs Jennings would opine.  “But she could not catch his fancy, and he could not catch hers.  The Colonel has a sad story, my dear Miss Dashwood, but surely that should not be held against him?  Indeed, he is a true romantic!”

Elinor hardly heard these speeches, for she had learned quickly that to enjoy Mrs. Jennings often meant mentally putting her at arm’s length, and nodding calmly in agreement to any enthusiastic repetition of sentiment.  Fortunately for all, Mrs. Jennings required nothing more than a smiling visage doing exactly that.

So for the first several evenings, Elinor was treated to the praise of Colonel Christopher Brandon, and on the fifth, she was presented with the man himself.

He came to dinner, Sir John having heard that morning he was back in the country and issuing an immediate invitation within that same hour.  When Elinor came down to the drawing room, there stood the man himself, speaking quietly to Sir John.

“Ah, Miss Dashwood!  There you are!  I had begun to wonder whether you were taking your time on purpose, so as to draw out the suspense!  Brandon, old man, here is the Miss Dashwood of whom I spoke before.   Miss Elinor Dashwood, Colonel Christopher Brandon.”

Elinor ignored any impropriety in the introduction and conducted herself with grace.  “Colonel,” she said softly as she curtseyed. 

He returned her greeting in equal grace.  “Miss Dashwood.”

The pair stood there, avoiding one another’s glance out of ingrained manners, Sir John prattling on about their common interests.  Mrs. Jennings came in at that moment with Lady Middleton, the latter making her way to greet her guest while the former exclaimed in delight over what she called the tête-à-tête before her.  “Miss Dashwood, you sly thing!  I should have known you would want to make the Colonel’s acquaintance all the quicker, after hearing such high praise of him throughout these last few days!  And Colonel, wasting no time, I see!”  She winked at him and laughed, her mirth infectious however uncalled for. 

The company was indeed a merry one; the Middletons were never in better humor than when entertaining, and the Colonel was a mutual favorite.  Mrs. Jennings shared her son-in-law’s enthusiasm for company.  Elinor was glad of a chance to meet a potential friend and widen the conversation at dinner, and, as it happened, that was precisely how Colonel Brandon felt.

A happier company had rarely shared a meal, even in this convivial household.  Mrs. Jennings refrained from teasing too much, with her usual ally distracted in discussing an upcoming hunting expedition with his friend.  Not that Elinor was neglected; Colonel Brandon found enough time throughout the meal to ask her general questions about her origin and her situation, and return the favor in answering some of Elinor’s. 

In the drawing room, after the meal, Lady Middleton took her customary seat by the fire and dozed while Mrs. Jennings attempted to glean Elinor’s impressions.  Or rather, impress upon Elinor what she should think and feel on meeting such an eligible bachelor as Colonel Brandon.

When that gentleman came through, followed by his host, Elinor thought she could detect a hint of chagrin in his countenance, and on seeing Sir John’s exaggerated wink and nod at his mother-in-law, knew that he had been subjected to much the same as she.

Sir John declared his desire to hear some music, for the pianoforte was in sad neglect.  Elinor demurred, knowing her talent to be only adequate.  

Colonel Brandon spoke up.  “Come Miss Dashwood, we too often spend evenings in this room without something to break the sound of our own voices.”  Sir John laughed at that, “too true, Brandon, too true!” and Elinor decided it was wise to take the opportunity.

She sat at the instrument and began a piece she knew by heart, a favorite of hers from evenings at Norland, and the small company settled in to hear it.  Mrs. Jennings and Sir John were distracted, discussing plans for a house party in the near future, and Colonel Brandon made his way over to stand near the pianoforte and make light conversation.

“Miss Dashwood,” he said quietly.  “I hope you don’t mind providing entertainment in this way; I know I was a bit out of line in pressing you when you had demurred.”

“On the contrary, Colonel,” she replied.  “It had not occurred to me that we might have more to gain even with my mediocre talent than without.”  Her eyes sparkled, and he bit down a chuckle.

So that evening was spent, to the general satisfaction of all.

-

Colonel Brandon was a frequent guest at Barton Park in the weeks to follow, usually for supper, sometimes just to visit with Sir John and spend a day shooting.  But as the weather improved, the damp spring giving way to a pleasant early summer, he seemed to find excuses to come around when Sir John would be occupied.  Mrs. Jennings, sensing the Colonel had an unspoken intention, freed Elinor in the afternoons to do as she pleased.

So it was that Colonel Brandon and Elinor Dashwood frequently walked the grounds of Barton Park, chatting about nothing – and, without much warning, everything.

She told him about her father, in terms even her passionate sister might approve; there was love yet, and Elinor could hold back nothing when asked.  The Colonel spoke of India with a wistfulness that caused Elinor to see the hot sun sinking in the West, to hear the timbre of spoken Hindu.  She spoke, hesitantly, about her hope for the near future, to settle in Devonshire and aid her mother.

If Colonel Brandon wished to press Miss Dashwood for more on this score, to learn of her deepest hopes for the future, he held back.  No matter how much they were both teased, to even a casual observer, the two were only good friends.

Their calm demeanor fooled all but Mrs. Jennings, who daily expounded on her suspicions to her son-in-law, and that good man made sure to pass it on, every word, to his friend.

“She is young, Brandon, but she is steady.  I have watched her carefully these few months, and I know her to be a good sort of girl.  She could run a household and hold many a burden on her shoulders; you would never need to worry on that account.”

Sir John’s choice in wife illustrated his priorities for the matrimonial state, though the Colonel would not say so aloud.  Instead, he responded to Sir John’s repeated soliloquies with a shrug and a turn to aim his weapon at a fresh bird, or take a sip of his brandy, depending on the situation.

No matter the Colonel’s opposition to the idea, Elinor herself began to work on him, quite unconsciously.  There was truth to Sir John’s declaration that Brandon could not remain single indefinitely.  He felt it himself, the long nights and the lack of protection from eager mamas on husband hunts.  He was an eligible bachelor, though perhaps not as rich as some, and his age was not yet an obstruction. 

Elinor Dashwood was a capable, steady girl – but she was more than that.  She had proven herself loyal, kind, and unfailingly sensible, which Brandon’s heart had come to appreciate in a woman.  She had a deep appreciation for beauty, and to get at her opinion, one had to earn it.  And she was beautiful, there was no denying that, though it was understated.

So it was that as time went on, and their meeting became more regular, Colonel Brandon fell in love with Miss Elinor Dashwood.

-

For her part, Elinor had no notion of love, because it had been utterly unlooked for.  Her sensibility was not as developed as that of her sister, who had recently written about their sister-in-law’s elder brother and decried his poetry reading as “wholly inadequate and unsuited to the passions with which the work was written.”  She intimated that some – possibly their mother – had looked to this Edward Ferrars as a match for Marianne, simply because he was there.  Marianne, it could be believed, thought of this as well, as she sized up most eligible men in terms of romantic suitability.

Elinor saw Colonel Brandon as a friend, a good friend of the Middletons to whom she was so deeply indebted.  To think of him as more, especially in light of her current status in their household, was to presume too much. 

Even so, she could not deny there was something between them, as time passed and they became so accustomed to one another.  They were seldom in company with so many others so as to prevent their falling into conversation.  He made her laugh, but more often, he made her think.  She looked forward to their now near-daily walks.

-

In truth, by the beginning of Elinor’s third month in Devonshire, even Elinor and Colonel Brandon had separately begun to think of courtship.  She wondered why he held back, and he wondered whether he dared go forward.

But just at this crucial time, there came an interruption.

One afternoon, Colonel Brandon arrived at Barton Park harassed, and in a great rush.  He stopped to speak only briefly with Sir John before seeking out Elinor.

Their intimacy by this time was such that she recognized a look of distress by the comparative lack of it at prior meetings.

“Colonel, you do not seem yourself today,” she said in a hesitant voice.  “Is all well?”

He nodded, also hesitant, for what weighed on him was perhaps too much to impart to his new friend.  But after a moment in silence, he found he had to tell her something.

“I cannot stay long today, Miss Dashwood.  It was my intention to take Sir John up on supper, but I must go to town on business.”

“Nothing too taxing, I hope?”

“I’m afraid….that is, I don’t know.” 

He was never so closed with Elinor, and she was surprised.  She hid it, though, seeing his distress and not wishing to impose too much on him.  He took his leave soon after, but before doing so, took her hand, a liberty that shocked her.

“Miss Dashwood, forgive me.  But…say nothing, please, of my manner or the urgency I have expressed to you today.  I…the less said, the better, at present, if you take my meaning.”

She could only guess, since his business was his own, but she agreed.  The press of his hand on hers was distracting.

He left, not looking back, and Elinor was taken aback to realize how sharp was her disappointment.

-

Mrs. Jennings was full of hints and implications that evening, though Sir John refrained from speculating on his friend’s absence.  His uncharacteristic response to Mrs. Jennings’ certainty that the good Colonel had gone to London for a ring was “I do not care to pry overmuch into a man’s business.”

Elinor, for her part, agreed with Sir John wholeheartedly, and settled down to write to her mother and sisters.

-

Word of one Miss Williams, a ward of Colonel Brandon’s, swept through the servants’ quarters, quite inevitably.  Mrs. Jennings repeated some of the gossip to Elinor; Miss Williams had been missing, not heard from in quite some time, and had reappeared in London the day before Colonel Brandon’s last visit at Barton. 

“With child,” said Mrs. Jennings, not stopping to think that speaking of such a scandal was highly improper conversation to have with her young, unmarried companion.  Elinor did not blush to hear it, though her heart grieved as Mrs. Jennings imparted what she knew of the Colonel’s history to Elinor.

Most of it was mere embellishment of what Elinor had heard from the Colonel himself, but new to Elinor was that the Colonel suffered from the cruelest of heartbreaks.

“Though I don’t know the particulars,” said Mrs. Jennings.  “Only that he loved once, and it was unrequited, for she died in a tragic manner after marrying another.  Miss Williams, it is to be believed, is that woman’s natural daughter, and her paternity is a mystery.”  She sipped her tea, letting the gravity of what she implied settle over Elinor.  “He has never married, as you know, and did not seem inclined to it.”  She held her tongue after that statement, though Elinor knew, Mrs. Jennings longed to say “until now” in a triumphant coda. 

Elinor went to bed thinking on all she had heard.  Whatever the truth was, Colonel Brandon had seen sorrow, and it explained his urgency and his hesitancy at their last meeting.  She fell asleep holding no grudge, nor any particular hope, as she had every night since coming to Barton Park.

But she felt the touch of his hand, and saw the distress on his face when she closed her eyes.  She dreamt of relieving that distress, of doing more than letting him take her hand.

-

The Colonel had been gone a month, and the routine at Barton Park had finally settled, even with the hole his absence created.  Elinor kept by Mrs. Jennings’ side, handling her correspondence at times and accompanying her on errands, and that lady began to talk of going on to London before much longer. 

One day, Elinor received two notes at breakfast.  The first from her mother, explaining that she needed Elinor to look over the cottage Sir John had promised, for she intended to take possession by Michaelmas and had written Sir John so.  The second was from Colonel Brandon, who had never taken the liberty of writing to her before.

_“Miss Dashwood,_

_You may think it improper that I should write you so, with no permission from you or your guardians, but I think we are friends, and I need to tell a friend what is about to transpire.  Should I see you again, I will explain all.  For now, know, and please keep to yourself, that I have called out a man who is responsible for much sorrow and heartache – nay, that is too kind, for what he has wrought is nothing short of ruin.  I go on the morrow, and by the time you receive this note, it will be over.  I follow it, if all turns out well.  Should it not, I wish you joy in your life to come.  Do not let what has befallen your family keep you from seeking it.  I am ever yours,_

_Col. C. Brandon”_

Called out!  Did he mean a _duel_?  Elinor read the note again and again, taking in the words, trying to decipher their meaning, struggling to keep her face neutral.  Her cheeks burned, and she felt that she would give it all away.  But she was happily ignored, as her companions also had letters, and each was engrossed.

She bit her lip and considered.  She could say something to Sir John, but what good would that do?  He might race to London to stop his friend, but as Colonel Brandon – Christopher, she thought, the name leaping unbidden to her mind – assured her the duel would have already taken place.  Besides, she would alarm Mrs. Jennings and upset Lady Middleton.  No, she could say nothing, do nothing.

And she knew what it was to feel despair, while being able to give away nothing.

Elinor’s racing thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Jennings, who had a note of her own, from her daughter Charlotte.

“This is….oh my.  Oh my!”  She looked up at Sir John and waved to get his attention.  “Look!” she said, pressing her letter into his hands.  “John Willoughby!” she said, her countenance one of shock.

Sir John read it over and exclaimed his dismay.  “This is outrageous!  Well, Lady Allen has no other heir.  I wonder how she is taking the news.  What a shame, a true shame, for I had intended to invite Willoughby to hunt once fall settles in, and introduce him to our Miss Dashwood’s sisters by-and-by.  But there, he’ll never do now, the scoundrel.”

Sir John had said all this as though no one heard him, but assuredly, all at the table did, even the distracted Elinor, who was putting this all together.  Brandon’s note had contained no mention of the man he challenged, but she had to wonder. 

Mrs. Jennings did not keep her in suspense, of course; it was Miss Williams linked to this unknown Willoughby, and there was nothing for it.  Brandon had therefore challenged a man, by Sir John’s lamenting account, who was a famous shot, and half his age. 

Nothing in Mrs. Jennings’ letter gave a hint of the duel, and Elinor excused herself as soon as she could, to avoid giving any accidental hint as to the possibly tragic end to this horrific scandal.

-

To distract herself and her hosts, Elinor came down later in the morning and spoke up about her mother’s intentions, and applied to Sir John to be given access to Barton Cottage that very day.  She felt she could keep herself occupied in going over the property and making plans.  Sir John thought it a capital plan, and Mrs. Jennings gave her endorsement.  Suddenly the conversation was turned to much more favorable topics, as Mrs. Jennings asked about the younger Miss Dashwoods and speculated on which young men in the neighborhood might do for each.  Colonel Brandon’s name came up a few times, causing Elinor to blush, and hide it as best she could.

“There now, Miss Dashwood,” said Mrs. Jennings later, as Elinor prepared to  leave for the cottage.  “I know you fancy you have his heart, and it might be you do.  I will not save him for your sister, and neither should you!”

The impertinence, ever present, went nearly unnoticed by Elinor, and Mrs. Jennings remarked later to Lady Middleton that silence was certainly proof of their engagement and they would see a wedding before Christmas for sure.

-

That afternoon, Elinor went over the cottage several times, daydreaming a bit, trying to envision her mother and sisters in its rooms.  It was furnished, though everything was in need of a cleaning before her family arrived.  She took notes, not wanting to ask too much of Sir John, just covering the necessities.

The view from the upper floor was of the wide plain, the cliffs and the sea below.  She could hear the crash of waves if she tried, and the air smelled of salt.  It was pleasant and retiring; there were much worse places they could end up, she knew, and she was grateful to Sir John for offering this place. 

She tried then to imagine herself in these walls.  It was not difficult.  Elinor was the sort who could adapt to any situation; she had not been often tried in her lifetime, but it was proving true.  Her philosophies gave her the necessary support to keep on going, even when disappointment occurred.

Disappointment.  That would be too weak a word to give to her situation, should the worst have happened in London.  She sat on one of the beds, giving way to her feelings in her solitude. 

There it was, now, the full realization of those feelings.  She had come to love Christopher Brandon.  She had good reason to believe he felt the same – she touched his letter in her pocket, so like the day she’d come to Barton, grasping Sir John’s letter, the one that changed her fate. 

Her sobbing was brief, because she knew she could not go back to Barton Park looking as though she’d been in tears.  She had to gain control of herself.  But it was hard, oh! 

She had her eyes closed, taking in the sounds and the smells for just another minute when she heard a horse’s gallop.  She walked to the window and looked down the lane – a rider approached, with seeming haste.

She went downstairs, in no great hurry owing to the stairs’ steepness, and yet with trepidation, because the rider could only be bringing news if he was seeking her, and it might not be news she wanted to hear.  Her heart was in her throat, though her countenance would give away little to the casual observer.  Once downstairs, she had time to smooth her hair only when a voice shouted her name.

“Miss Dashwood!”

His voice!

Propriety and decorum lost out as she realized everything at once.  Colonel Brandon was here, seeking her out, and it meant that he had survived, that the duel had ended in his favor, and his first thought on returning was to find her.

_To find her._

She flew out the door, to satisfy herself that she was not mistaken, and Colonel Brandon was there, dismounted and disheveled.  His hair ruffled from the wind, his jacket and cravat dirty from the road, his face ruddy from exertion.

Five-and-thirty he may be, she thought, but he would never have looked so handsome at any time, to any other woman.

Their eyes met, and though Elinor had not before considered that Mrs. Jennings was right, she knew she would owe that good woman an apology for her doubts.

Colonel Brandon took the few steps to Elinor, holding back, perhaps, so as not to overwhelm her.  What a needless and senseless act that was, for Elinor met him halfway.

"I went to look for you at Barton Park."

"Yes."

"I could not - my note.  Can you forgive me for sending something so irrational, so senseless?  You, who are so steady?"  He took her hand, as he had the day he'd gone.

Elinor smiled.  "Irrational?  You were doing your duty as you saw it.  Rash it may have been, ill-advised, not irrational."

"You could not have thought so on reading about it."

"Perhaps not," and here she hesitated.  How to tell him how she felt, without giving everything away at once?  "I never knew, until that moment, how I might feel on reading such words."

She looked up at him and saw awe dawn over his features.

"And how was that, Miss Dashwood?" he whispered.

She took his other hand, emboldened.  "Frightened.  Worried that...that I might...you might not return.  I wanted to you to appear in the doorway right then and relieve me of any anxiety."

"And so would I have done, had it been in my power."

They stood in silence, trying to comprehend that what each had not dared to hope was now reality.

"The other gentleman?" she said, trying to move past the gravity of her emotion.

"Alive.  Unharmed," sighed Brandon.  "I could have.  Perhaps I should.  But my honor was satisfied, and I could not risk…"  He looked in her eyes, seeking something, and found it.  Elinor did not flinch, though the passion he felt was on full display.

"Will you tell me all?" she said quietly.

"No doubt you have heard some of it," he said, looking away.  "But yes.  Later.  I will tell you all.  For now, Miss Dashwood," he said, and the look on his face was tender once more, "I would like to know.  Do you truly intend to take up residence here, with your mother and sisters?  Or could you be enticed away?"

The flirtatious tone was new to her, but she found she liked it, and she responded in kind.

"Yes, Colonel Brandon.  I do believe I could be swayed toward another situation."

-

It should be said, Mrs. Dashwood and her remaining daughters came to live at Barton Cottage, but that Elinor never slept a night under that roof, and the wedding that Mrs. Jennings had predicted did in fact take place before Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I could write about the Colonel and Elinor for a long time. Thank you for the chance!
> 
> Title from Shelley's "Love's Philosophy," though I am sure Elinor would disdain the connection. :-)


End file.
